


When They Were Young

by feli_ci_tea



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: I'm in love with this ship okay, M/M, my first fanfic pls be gentle, these young childs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9158143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feli_ci_tea/pseuds/feli_ci_tea
Summary: Jumin, V, & their oblivious high school crushes





	

It was common for the two of them to sneak out in the dead of night to talk. Jumin and V’s classes keep them busy during the day, so at nighttime, they meet in the garden by Jumin’s house to relax and catch up. The young teens sit under an old oak tree, the vibrant starlight peeking through the leaves and freckling the grass around them. A half-empty bottle of wine lies in between them as they recount all the stories from the past week.  
  
Usually, the reserved V prefers to listen rather than speak, but tonight the alcohol loosened him up, and he is ranting about his math teacher, who had scolded him for bringing his photos into the classroom. His hands move animatedly through the air as he speaks.  
  
“I didn’t think that everyone would want to look at my photos instead of the lesson,” he huffs, “she said ‘Art will only get you so far, so you should focus on your studies instead.’” He pauses a moment, letting his eyes fall to the ground. “I’ve heard those words, over and over again. But it doesn’t change the fact that photography is what I love. I wish she’d understand that.”  
  
Despite being obviously frustrated and slightly tipsy, he never raises his voice or speaks ill of the woman, or anyone for that matter. Jumin can tell that her words hurt him more than he let on, so he frantically thinks of something he could say. He couldn’t sympathize, so he decides to go with a more objective response.  
  
“She should have been teaching better. Then the students wouldn’t have gotten sidetracked, and she wouldn’t have a reason to be mad,” he states matter-of-factly. V stares blankly at the other man before bursting out into laughter. Jumin shoots him an inquisitive look, which only makes him laugh more.  
  
“What’s so funny?”  
  
“The solution you suggested seems so simple. But really, it’s a lot more complicated than that.”  
  
“It’s only logical.”  
  
“That’s why it’s complicated,” V chuckles, “Not everyone can be so objective. Some people always follow their hearts. You’d be surprised at how persuasive it can be.”  
  
“Huh.”

Oh, Jumin knew. But his face didn’t give it away. He watches as V takes the bottle between them and brings it to his lips. He hadn’t realized this before, but his cheeks flush red when he drinks. When he offers the bottle to Jumin, he takes it and gulps down some wine. The effects of the alcohol begin to set in, leaving him feeling fuzzy.  
  
When he looks back at V, he’s staring up at the sky, the dappled moonlight glinting across his turquoise eyes. Jumin gazes at him, the way the breeze tousles his hair, the curve of his mouth as it parts into a light smile. He looked absolutely breathtaking.  
  
At that thought, his breathing hitches. _What the hell?_ He attempts to shove it to the back of his mind, but it lingers around like the bittersweet aftertaste of wine. Wait. Wine. That must be the reason behind the strange notion. He must have drank too much wine. He cared for his friend, but that was a little unwarranted.  
  
A hand waving in front of his face snaps Jumin back to reality. V lowers his hand with a grin.  
  
“There he is. You were staring this entire time,” he tilts his head, “Are you okay?”  
  
Jumin’s eyes widen. He’s been staring right at V this whole time. He can feel his face heat up with embarrassment. He lets out a nervous cough and looks away, mumbling an “I’m fine” before attempting to stand. Unsurprisingly, a wave of dizziness washes over him and he stumbles, latching onto the tree trunk to keep from falling. V quickly gets up, putting a hand on Jumin’s shoulder to further steady him.  
  
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Did you drink too much?” He looks at the bottle laying on the ground. Empty. Jumin shakes his head, straightening himself back up.  
  
“I just stood up too fast. Really, I’m fine.” He places his own hand on V’s, about to remove it from his shoulder. Instead, V tightens his grip and pulls Jumin towards him, wrapping his arms around the other in a hug. Jumin stiffens in surprise at the sudden action. The hold V has on him was gentle, but firm.  
  
“I’m sorry I laughed earlier. I should be thanking you for listening to me,” he murmurs. Jumin hesitantly raises his arms and places them around V, returning the hug.  
  
“I-It’s nothing,” he stutters, “That teacher just doesn’t see your skills, so don’t let her words discourage you. They’re just words. Have more confidence in yourself and stop caring what others think.” V pulls away from him, beaming.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “12:38am”.

“Oh, it’s so late already. I should go home.” V shoves the phone back in his pocket and turns his gaze back to Jumin. “Thanks again, really.”

He squeezes Jumin’s shoulder one last time before turning around and walking towards the end on the garden. When he reaches the gate, he looks back and calls out, “I’ll text you later!” with a wave. Jumin waves back and watches from the base of the tree as he turns the corner and leaves. He lets out a deep sigh as he picks up the wine bottle and plods through the garden back to his house.

Once he’s back inside his own room, he changes into his pajamas and unceremoniously plops onto his bed. His hand travels to his shoulder, touching where V’s hand had just been. He closes his eyes, remembering the warmth of his embrace. The feelings he had earlier began to resurface, but he quickly dismisses them, chastising himself for drinking the majority of the wine. Even so, he can’t help but smile at the memory as his eyes flutter shut.


End file.
